Page 36 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

I need to catch her up on everything. I just don’t know where to start.

“We’re still on for the Fourth of July, right?” Mell asks. “Please don’t make me partner with my mother for the three-legged race. That’s not going to end well. For anyone.”

Well, I guess this is where I start…

I suck in a breath, working on finding the words. They are hovering right at the surface, but need a little coaxing over the line. Or a great big push.

“About that…”

Mell’s eyebrows fly up, eyes going wide. She’s on high alert now, ready for whatever I’m about to spill.

“Don’t tell me you have to work! It’s the Fourth of July, Bren!”

“No, no. The drugstore is closed for the holiday. But, I kinda told Milo that I would go with him.”

There we go. It’s out in the open. May the interrogation commence.

Quirking her head to the side, Mell furrows her brow, sheer confusion taking over.

“Why?”

“Because he asked?”

I don’t intend for it to come out like a question. Because it’s not. It’s my legit answer.

I came home from the drugstore last night, exhausted after another very long day of dealing with Mr. Hovland and his less than subtle tactics, to find a just as exhausted roommate. Although his had less to do with townies and more to do with a broken valve of some sort. We both agreed the only remedy was pizza and a movie. I called the Slice while Milo pulled up Jurassic Park—our own little inside joke now—and we curled up on the couch and let the day melt away.

And yes, we curled up together. Which is another thing I’m trying not to think about. Because his arm around me and my head against his chest felt so easy and natural that it should be illegal.

Before we headed to bed—our own beds—he stopped me, taking my hands and telling me how much fun he had at dinner and that we should do it again.

“What would you say to joining me for the Fourth of July Picnic?” he asked. “Hayes tradition dictates the first tug-o-war, and Hux will probably have our heads if we skip out on Dolly’s pancake breakfast, but the rest of the day would be ours.”

Then he smirked and winked. A lethal combination if there ever was one.

“Milo asked you to the Fourth of July picnic?” Mell repeats, as if saying it out loud will make it make sense.

I nod, giving her the moment she needs to catch up.

“Like…on a date?”

I nod again, sucking my lips into my mouth. I can feel my cheeks go pink, and I try to look away. But I can’t. The excitement in me over this is too much, and I’m dying to tell her.

“Actually, a second date.”

“A second date? That implies there was a first date.”

“There was.”

Mell squeals, kicking her feet up and down, her eyes as big as plates. The sound is so loud I’m worried that they’ll hear her in the next room. I try and shush her, but it’s no use. My best friend has lost her mind with excitement. For me.

“Brenna Heidi Rawlins…” Triple named, damn. “Spill!”

“They’re pity dates, promise,” I tell her. More importantly, reminding myself.

“How so?”

I sigh, pushing my practice test away and settling into the chair. Might as well get comfortable.